


Friction

by zinnianne



Category: One Piece
Genre: Canon Universe, Dry Humping, F/M, Frottage, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-23 17:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8336653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinnianne/pseuds/zinnianne
Summary: “Sorry!” Luffy says, bowing his head. “The crew voted to drown you. They said something about “atoning for auditory torture.” I was outvoted!”
 Or: Zoro and Nami escape to the storage room. Which is not soundproof. But do they care? No. So inconsiderate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a [series of prompts](http://anotheropti.tumblr.com/post/124755875817/smut-fic-prompts) I found on Tumblr. This is A2 - Dry humping/clothed sex. I'm apparently doing multiple, so drop a comment if there's a specific one you want to see. (Regarding timelines, this is set somewhere after the Alabasta arc, but before Skypeia. I still have not read the manga, so don't kill me for any mistakes I make regarding canon and all that.)

A week since their display on the deck finds them locked in the storage room, kissing as if their lives depend on it.  
  
He's not– Hell, he's not even sure how this happened. He'd come in here to check that everything was stowed away, and that there were no stowaways, as he does every time they depart from wherever they'd been docked at. It had just been a simple port town, nothing more than getting supplies, but stowaways can come from anywhere.  
  
And Nami had followed him in, looking for more map paper, bickering with him about something completely insignificant that he can’t even remember right now, and when he'd turned around to snap something at her, somehow, _somehow_ , she'd ended up against the door, lips against his.  
  
Zoro blames her.  
  
The act has no finesse, no tenderness or patience, only a fast-paced hunger, neediness in every slide of their mouths against each other. His teeth scrape on her bottom lip and she hums appreciatively, traces the shape of his mouth with her tongue until his lips part for her.  
  
Nami’s hands find his hair again, fisting in green locks and he groans, notes the way she shivers at the sound, notes the tightness in his pants. Some part of his brain says they should stop, but the rest moves his hand lower, tracing down her side to rest on her hip, his other hand pressing against the back of her neck to pull her even closer against him.  
  
Neither realizes just how close their bodies are until her thigh brushes against his crotch and his hips jerk forward before he's fully processed the action, the friction too much and not enough for either of them.  
  
This time he does break the kiss, moving the hand that was on her neck to the door behind her, trying to support himself, body suddenly uncooperative as he inhales deep, shaky breaths. "You... This has to stop," Zoro says, voice low enough to be a growl.  
  
Nami shifts, thighs rubbing together. "And why's that?"  
  
"You know exactly why," he hisses, buries his face into the crook of her neck because if he doesn't, he might begin to wonder the same thing, her lips so inviting and teasingly close.  
  
"No," Nami says, the authoritative tone in her voice surprising him. "I don't. We're both adults, we have the most privacy we'll ever get aboard this ship, and I've never been more horny in my life. Do you actually want to stop?"  
  
The question is snapped, but he can tell that it's genuine. If he says yes, she'll leave in a huff, but she would leave. It’s his choice, and he’s turned down enough women before, it would be easy enough, except.  
  
Well.  
  
He doesn't really want that.  
  
Zoro turns his head to kiss her neck, teeth scraping against it before his tongue swipes over the sensitive skin and he can feel the vibrations of the moan she lets out, humming low in her throat. Tentatively, he moves his hips forward again, exhaling audibly when the friction drags against her.  
  
"No," he murmurs against her throat. "I don't want to stop."

And if he’s honest, that’s news to him, too. It’s not like he’d considered doing this before. With her, or anyone. Things like sex and relationships were just never worthwhile to him, always something more important to be doing. But then she had to go and kiss him and hell if he’s been able to get her out of his head since.  
  
"Then press a little harder," Nami grins, cocky smirk evident in her voice. He bites down a little too hard on her neck in response, eliciting a gasp from her as he thrusts forward with more force this time, her hips responding in kind.  
  
It's messy and a little out of sync, but they find a rhythm soon enough, grinding against each other unabashedly. She lifts the edge of her skirt up at some point, cotton panties dragging against the strained material of his pants. He trails kisses up her jaw until his lips meet hers again, needy and insistent.  
  
Lithe hands slip under his shirt, seeking contact. They're too dressed, too many layers on both of them but stopping to take them off sounds like a crime so her hands splay underneath his shirt instead, perfectly filed nails raking down his back and Zoro's moan borders on a growl, hips moving faster, cock twitching inside the restraint of his pants.  
  
Nami fares little better, his hands slipping under her shirt to palm at her breasts, the thin material of her bra doing nothing to guard against the feeling of his fingers rubbing against her nipples, encircling and pinching. Her panties are soaked, her body throbbing with every thrust. The friction catches on her clit and she cries out, so close, so _close._  
  
The kiss breaks apart into desperate, needy gasps, thrusts growing shorter and erratic. They’re both lost in the high of chasing after the end but they’re still, somehow, competing, trying to make the other finish first, refusing to back down. Zoro’s sure he knows more techniques, something, anything he’s overheard that could give him the advantage but his mind is all a pleasurable white static, refusing to form any semblance of coherency.

In the end, he’s the one who topples over first, opening his eyes to find the sight overwhelming, Nami writhing in pleasure against him. "Ffffuck, Nami, Nami," he moans, the world fizzling down to just the friction between them and the look on her face and he wants– “ _Cum for me_.”

She does, follows him over the edge to the sound of his voice, lustful and deep and calling out her name. It's too much, too much, their thrusts coming to a halt against each other as they shudder, pleasure wracking their nerves.  
  
Slowly, they collapse against each other, the door doing most of the work of keeping them standing. "Zoro..." Nami breathes, the noise jolting right through his still-sensitive body. She buries her face in his neck and it's almost tender, his arms moving of their own accord to encircle her waist, holding her close.

"Carry me back to my room," she orders, and he laughs, a genuine laugh that rumbles in his chest.  
  
Of course she's only affectionate when she wants something. "Yeah, whatever," he mutters, but he picks her up anyway, carries her bridal style as she wraps her arms around his neck. "They're gonna see, you know."  
  
"Please, as if they couldn't hear us," Nami dismisses. "Sucks for them."  
  
Zoro pauses, that fact slowly worming its way into realization. "Hadn't considered that," he admits, turning the door handle anyway.  
  
"What, like you care?" She pulls her face away from his neck just enough to glance up at him.  
  
Snippy but genuine, he answers in turn, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Nah. Now shut up before I decide to drop you."  
  
Nami laughs, curling back into him as they enter the deck. Surprisingly, it’s empty, as if everyone is hiding. For a moment, Zoro wonders if maybe they threw themselves overboard. It’d be a ridiculous overreaction, but it wouldn’t be all that out of character.

Shrugging, he crosses the deck to her room, dropping her off on her mattress. “Thanks,” she murmurs, leaning up to press a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. “I guess you’re good for some things, sometimes.”

“Gee, what a compliment,” he scoffs, exasperated smile tugging at his expression. “Clean yourself up, you’re a mess.”

He can hear her huff as he closes her door behind him, grinning to himself on the empty deck. Maybe he’s not that cursed, really.

It figures that as soon as he thinks that, “GOMU GOMU NO ROCKET!” is the last thing he hears before being launched off the deck. _Two_ attempted drownings in one month. No, he’s definitely cursed.

 

* * *

 

_bonus/omake:_

“Really? You, of all people, tried to drown me?” Zoro asks, scathing glare directed at his captain. He’s still dripping from having clawed his way back up the side of the Going Merry, seawater soaked through all of his clothes.

Grimacing, he realizes his pants are still a sticky mess too, having been ambushed before he could change. If looks could kill...

“Sorry!” Luffy says, bowing his head. “The crew voted to drown you. They said something about “atoning for auditory torture.” I was outvoted!”

 _“You’re the Captain!_ You can’t _be_ outvoted!”

A pause.

“Oh. That’s true.”

Zoro groans, dragging a hand over his face in tired exasperation. He’s done nothing to deserve this. He’s a relatively good person. “I am going to kill every last one of you and then myself.”

“Even Nami?” Luffy asks, and Zoro gives up, laying on the ship’s floor. A nap doesn’t sound that bad; he’ll probably be dry by the time he wakes up. Pneumonia is for the weak.

“Nah. She’d probably kill me first.”


End file.
